The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-03-08

Lines on Returning the Blasted Document
to the Genial Giver.

Lines on Returning the Blasted Docufnent
to the Genial Giver.
HUDsoN,@Wis March so 1887.
w. F. White, ESQ, General Passenger Agent
Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railroad, Topeka,
Kan:
Dear Sir-I inclose herewith annual pass No.
@ 035 for self and family over your Justly cele-
brated road during the year 1887 l also return
your photograph and the letters you have
written me during the past five yeare VIII
you kindly return mines And SO this brief and
beautiful experience is to end, and each OF US
must 60 his own way hereafter.
Alas
To you this may be easy. but it brings pang
to my heart which your gentle letter of the LIST
inst. cannot wholly alleviate
Whenever hereafter you look upon this tear
speckled pass will you lot think of met Re.
member that you have cast me from you and
that am wandering across the bleak and wind
swept plains sadly enumerating the ties on my
way to eternity.
do not say this to reproach you, for fear
that you care for another. and SO we could not
be happy again together. But, oh! do you parse
to fully comprehend the pang it costs me to re-
turn this pleasant faced little pass with its
ditions on the back2 Could you see me even
now, as write these lines, turning away ever
and anon, laying aside my trembling pen to 60
and sit by the CRATE and shudder, and weep, and
put out the fire with my bitter tears, your heart
would soften and you would say, Return,
wanderer, return"
You do not say in your letter that have been
You do not charge me with inidelity or failure
to provide You simply say that it would be
better for each to his several ways, forgetting
| that my several ways are passing away, passing
away.
1t is all we'll enough for you to talk about go
| ing your several ways. Yoa have every facility
| for doing so, but with me it is different. Sew.
eral years ago a large Northwestern cyclone and
myself tried to pass each other on the same
| track. When the wrecKing crew found me
| was in the crotch of butternut tree, with o
broken leg. Since that time l have walked with
great difficulty. and to go my several ways mas
been a very serious matter with me.
But do not want you to think that am muir
muring. I accept my doom calmly, yet with
| slight tinge of unavailing regret
| Some time perhaps, il the middle OF the dark
and angry night, when the cold blasts wall
| through the telegraph wires and the crashing
| sleet rushes with wild and impetuous fury
| against the windows of your special car, you
| lie warmly ensconced in your voluptuous berth
| and hear the pitiless winds with hoarse and
| croupy means chase each other around the Kan
| sas haystacks or shrek wildly away they
| light out for their cherries home in the Bad
| Lands, will you not think of me AS l grope on
| bliudly through the keen and pitiless blasts
| stumbling cattle guards. falling into cul-
verts and beating out my rare young brains
| against your rough right OF way, will you not
think of me? do not ask much of you, but I
| do ask this as we separate forever.
AS you whiz by ne DO not treat me with con-
| tumely, or throw crackers at me when l have
| meekiy turned ont to let your naughty old train
| 60 by. have always spoken of You in the high
est terms, and hope you will do the same by
me-
Life is short at the best, and il is especially so
| for those who have to walk Walking has al
ready shortened my life great deal, and l
| wouldn't be surprised if the exposure and bun
ions of the year 1887 carried me off, leaving a
gap in American literature that will look like o
| new cellar.
Should any of your engineers or trackmen
find me frozen in a cut next winter, when the
grass gets short and the nights get long. will
you kindly ask them to report the brand to your
| auditor and instruct him to allow my family
| what he thinks would be right l hate to write
to you in this detected manner, but you cannot
| understand how heavy my heart is to-day as ]
| pen these lines.
/ wish you and your beautiful road unmiti
gated success It is good road. for I have
passed over it and enjoyed it. How different
the country will look to me I 60 bounding
from tie to tie, slowly repeating to myself the
trite remark once made by the Governor OF
North Carolina to the executive of South Caro-
lima!
hope you may never know what it is to pull
into the quaint little city of La Junta with the
dust of many mile upon you and the thirst oil
long, uneventful journey in your throat
which will make it felony for a railroad man
to say gosh without permit l hope thai
your life will be chuck full of hurrah and halle
lujah, even it mine should be always bleak and
| joyless
Can I do your road any good, either at home
or abroada Can be of service to you over your
right of way, by collecting nuts, bolts, old iror
or other bric-a-b rac? I would be glad to in
huence immigration pull weeds between the
tracks if you would be willing to regard me as
an employe.
I will now take last look at the fair, young
features of your pass before finally sealing thil
letter. How sad to see an annual pass cut dowr
in life's young morning, one-fourth of it.
race has been run! How touchful to part from
it forever!
What sad year this has been so farl Earth
quakes, fires. storms, railway disasters ant
death in every form have visited our country
and now, like the biting blast from Siberia, o.
the nipping frosts from Manitoba. comes tn,
congressional cut-worm cutting off the early
crop of Towering ANIMALS just as they hat
budded to bloom into beauty and usefulness!
will now close this sad letter to 90 over int,
the vacant lot, behind the high board-fence
where l can sob in an unfettered way withou
shaking the glass out of my easement.
Yours, with a crockful Of unshed tears o,
: hand. BILL NYE, in New York World
That Settles It.
To the Editor Of the Indianapolis Journals
l The Journal is off again and an usual in sur